Enough
by HateMePretty
Summary: She first experiences heartbreak at the age of five. It wasn't her fault, not really. At least, that's what she tells herself. There's something wrong with her brain, something she can't control. She hates that she can't control it./ Four times Smackle's heart broke and one time her fairy godmother began to piece it back together again.


She first experiences heartbreak at the age of five.

It wasn't her fault, not really. At least, that's what she tells herself. There's something wrong with her brain, something she can't control.

She hates that she can't control it.

Her chest hurts- the right side, where her heart is. She doesn't understand why it aches where her blood is being pumped in and out. She doesn't understand how her heart can break when it's still working.

But it hurts so badly, she curls up on her bed and cries all night long. _She's not normal_ , the doctors say. _She's broken_. She doesn't want to be broken. She doesn't want to feel her parents strange gazes. She doesn't want to hear the sympathy calls from her family.

She recites the periodic table of elements to drown them out.

The second time her heart breaks, she is seven years old.

It is her fault this time. She isn't smart enough, prepared enough, good enough. She doesn't work hard enough.

And so she loses.

Her parents shake their heads at her. Their daughter is supposed to be a first-place prodigy, not a second-place regular. They accept the trophy and fake smiles, but frown at her behind closed doors. They revoke her outside priveledges until she wins.

She visits the library for hours on end.

The librarians worry for her. _Don't you want to play outside?_ They ask. She tells them _No, I just need to finish this stack of books. Thank you for your concern._

They are more concerned than her parents.

She is eight years old when her heartbreaks again.

It is her parents' fault. They are too far gone, too caught up in awards and money to notice as she stops talking unless it's for a competition.

Competitions happen often enough for her to still talk three times a week.

It's during those three time a week that she sees other parents congratulating their children. She sees other parents smile and give hugs. She sees other parents adjust their children's clothes. She sees other parents review their children's speeches once more _just so it's perfect_.

Her parents don't do that for her.

She tries to get their attention, but it never works. They're too caught up.

This time, her chest won't stop aching.

 _It's easy to forget it hurts when you get used to it._

It takes seven years for her heart to break once more.

She didn't think it could hurt any more. She thinks it's the worst pain there is, but the words sting. They repeat, over and over, no matter how often she recites the periodic table of elements.

 _I'm sorry. We can still be friends_.

Two years. She gave two years of love and devotion, all for seven words to end it.

Seven words to bring seven years crashing down around her.

It isn't his fault, not really. They were growing apart. It still kills her inside, and she finds herself giving excuse after excuse to ignore everyone. She finds herself spending hours in the library again, perfecting everything she can about herself.

It's not like she's not used to pain in her chest.

It's just that this pain is different.

This one stabs. This one stings. This one, she can't get used to. It gets worse each day, each hour, each minute, each second.

She wishes it will go away, but it stays.

She is sixteen years old when she finally begins to heal.

She pretended she was fine, but she had pulled away. She noticed their sad looks in her direction. She noticed his guilt. She noticed everything.

Until _Little Miss Sunshine_ corners her during class.

She is sitting, waiting to request to be alone for the project, when she is blinded by sunshine coming her way. She can't refuse her, so she just nods.

She dies a little more inside when the glowing girl tells her that she misses her.

How could anyone miss someone like _her_?

The bright brunette tells her that she understands heartbreak. That she understands why she left. That she understands the need to be removed.

But the wonder woman also tells her that they love her. That she needs to stay with them. That it's not healthy to be so alone.

That they love her to Pluto and back.

 _Pluto's not a planet_ , she hears herself say.

Riley Matthews smiles. "No," she agrees. "But I have faith in Pluto. I have faith in you. Please, Smackle. Farkle didn't want to hurt you. You know that."

Smackle hangs her head, ashamed to be so broken hearted. "He's just a boy. I don't care."

When Riley laughs, she feels worse. "Smackle- Isadora, I suppose. Yeah, I like that. Isadora, it's okay to be hurt. Did you see me when Lucas chose Maya? I threw up and didn't come to school for three days. I didn't even talk to them for two weeks."

Isadora looks up in surprise. She remembered that, but she hadn't thought it had taken so long.

"Farkle hates himself for hurting you," Riley continues, pausing when Isadora flinches. "He just wanted the both of you to be happy."

Isadora sniffs, before she finally lets her walls down.

"He was the first person to pay positive attention to me in years," she admits, breaking eye contact with Riley. "I hadn't spoken to my parents since I was eight. Nobody liked me. But he did, somehow."

"Isadora."

Riley's tone is more commanding than Isadora's ever heard. She looks at the girl again, knowing that is what she wants.

"Isadora Smackle, you will always have him, even if it's only as a friend. Don't forget about Maya, Lucas, Zay, and I. Especially me. I'm always here for you. Okay?"

Isadora smiles. It's a strange thing to her, a smile. After so long, it almost hurts to shift her mouth upwards. "Really?"

Riley nods enthusiastically. "Will you come to my mom's cafe after school? We'll all be there."

The hope in Riley's voice is enough to crack Isadora's resolve.

"Alright."

Isadora Smackle never expected a fairytale.

She realizes that she has her own fairy godmother in Riley Matthews, her own best friend in Farkle Minkus, and her own Prince Charming in Isaiah Babineaux.

It may not have been the happiest fairytale, or the most perfect, but it's enough.


End file.
